


Of Families

by floof



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull - Freeform, Doribull, Family Fighting, Fighting, M/M, Potentially triggering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 11:56:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5625742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floof/pseuds/floof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay, so there might have been better ways of handling this, but the point is, Dorian's Parents are now at Skyhold, and Bull has to deal with the fall out. Bull doesn't mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Families

**Author's Note:**

> As a part of the [Adoribull Holiday Exchange](http://anadoribullholiday.tumblr.com/), here is my gift to [themusicmaker69](http://themusicmaker69.tumblr.com/)! He wanted Dorian's parents come to skyhold, so here it is.
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful [little_abyss](http://archiveofourown.org/users/little_abyss).
> 
> Warnings for the wonderfulness that is messed up families, little bit of Bull's past, and if the option of having Dorian not reconcile with his father is upsetting to you, i totes understand but this fic isn't going to be your thing then, I'm sorry.

They don't talk about it, not at first. They don't talk about a lot of things. Important things, yes, the Iron Bull makes sure of that. On the second night Dorian comes to him, courage bolstered by whatever he'd been drinking in his alcove, the Bull sits him down and waits until it's worn off a little. Goes and gets him some food from down below, nothing fancy.

A bowl of stew and some bread, a pitcher of water. Dorian hasn't overdone it on the drinking, doesn't usually. He doesn't live in the bottle. 

The Bull could see Dorian getting to that point someday, sure. But not now. Not when there are better distractions to be had. The Bull's fine with being one of them. 

They talk about watchwords; it's not a fun talk. Dorian's flippant, agrees to one because why not, he wants sex and Bull's _somewhat attractive_ and has _nice muscles and a kind face if a bit scarred, but will he just get on with it? Dorian wants to be fucked into the mattress, now please. Ugh._

The pleases are an afterthought, not true begging. They're said with a sigh, like Dorian is doing the Bull a great favor by even being here.

“You're not the first man I've done this kind of thing with” Dorian tells him, “and you won't be the last. Now if you would just get on with it? Or should I tie _you_ up, and fuck myself on your cock? At least something would be happening, then.”

That bothers the Bull for reasons he'll examine later, maybe when he's back in Par Vollen. Because he has to go back after this whole thing is over; he's been too far from the Qun for too long. The Bull can feel bits of himself slipping again. There's cracks in his mind, doubts of his duty.

The thought that he wants to be the last man Dorian does this with crosses his mind briefly, but he shoves it away. Later, later. It will wait. It has to wait. For now, there's a needy mage pressing up against him, lips so soft against his own. 

The mustache tickles, but that's okay. Good, even. Bull likes it, likes Dorian. It was probably grown out to make him look older; the Bull can feel the softness of Dorian's cheeks beneath his hands, a bit around his stomach and ass and it's oh so cute, just like the rest of him.

Not that Dorian isn't handsome, he is. But he's also cute, and pretty; and well. The Bull's always liked pretty things. Not that Dorian's a thing, no. He's so much more than that; he's fire and warmth as his tongue trails along the Bull's lips. 

He's things the Bull won't examine right now. He has a mission, after all. This won't last forever, so why make it more than it is? Dorian's not about to.

The Bull can appreciate that.

~

Bull looks up from his chair in the tavern, tilts his head back and blinks. Once, twice, but nope, what he's seeing remains the same. Can't be too careful with one eye, but Bull's isn't deceiving him. 

Adaar's peering over the railing of the second floor, looking down at Bull like he doesn't want to be seen. His shoulders are hunched together, and he's crouched down, like he's trying to look small. It would never work, not in a fortress built for the southern races, probably not even back home. But Bull can appreciate the effort. 

Still makes him worried though, 'cause the Boss hasn't done anything like this since back at Haven. He's the Inquisitor now, and like it or not, people are going to notice him. They have to. The fact that Adaar's trying to be hidden in a room full of people, in his own castle, just makes something twist in the Bull's stomach.

Then it hits him; Adaar has to have snuck in through the upper floors; through Bull's own quarters, and yeah, it's the Bosses castle, but he's usually pretty good about respecting privacy. Would make him a shit spy, but he's got Red for that. Meaning whatever's got him imitating a scolded puppy must be bad, if he's avoided the front door.

For a moment Bull considers standing up and heading over, but that's when Adaar launches himself over the side of the railing to land in a crouch. He takes just a few steps, and he's in front of the Bull.

“So. I may have done something very, very bad.”

Well. That's obvious. Bull doesn't say anything, only nods his head, tilting it to the side, brow raised as he waits for the boss to go on.

“Dorian ever talk to you about his family?”

“Can't say that he has.” Not directly, anyway. He's said enough the Bull can guess; some sort of falling out, and Vints have the weirdest idea's about gender, sex, you name it. Bull can't imagine Dorian did very well, back in Tevinter. Even now he hides so much, when the Imperium isn't even a speck in the distance. 

But that's not what the boss is asking, and Bull respects Dorian in his own way. Dorian's secrets aren't worth anything, not yet. Not much the boss or the Qun can do with them.

“Well. Crap... Uh, well, see, uh-” Adaar gulps down some air then looks around a little guilty, like he's just remembered where they are. Bull supposes maybe he has. Adaar leans in closer, then says in a rush:

“Look it's not really my story to tell but you're his _whole lot of something_ ” Adaar gestures in the air at this, like he's not even sure what that means. Fair enough, since Bull isn't either. “But you know it's not good, right? The family thing? His father did something... bad, back in Tevinter, but see I can't tell you what because again, not really my story to tell but you're his _something_ so... Arg!”

“Boss? Breathe.”

“I am breathing! I need it to live! See, in, out. In, out. Phew.” Adaar smiles then, laughing a little as he shakes his head. “Okay, yeah, I do feel better. But anyway... Okay look, I know you weren't there when I went with Dorian to Redcliffe but his family...they're kind of awful? And I might've... regretted the decision I made – not going to tell you what – so awhile ago, while talking to Josephine and there was brandy involved, a lot of it, at least I think it was brandy...”

“Boss.” Bull says calmly, though his patience is wearing thin. “What did you do?”

“I might've mentioned regretting it to Josephine and I might've said I'd do it over if I could – I made it all about myself, 'cause families aren't supposed to do that! They're supposed to love you unconditionally, like my moms do me and my siblings, I-”

“Boss!” Bull snaps, patience close to gone now. “What. Did. You. Do?”

“Uh, well. I...” Adaar rubs at his horns with both hands, whimpers a little before looking Bull in the eye. “Look, Dorian's parents are here now and there's shouting and I'm not sure what to do and Bull – Bull, where are you going?”

If Adaar said anymore, the Bull didn't hear it. He was already out the door and heading through the keep towards the library. 

Family shit. If he'd learned anything from growing his mercenary band, it was that it fucked things over more often than not. Nearly all his boys had issues with theirs. But some how the Qunari were the backwards ones.

~

Well, the boss is right. There's a lot of shouting when Bull gets there. The tranquil are going about their business without being disturbed, but they're the only ones. Solas is sitting at his table, idly mixing paint as Bull walks by. He nods at the qunari, but otherwise doesn't acknowledge him. 

Instead he's glaring up at the argument one floor above them, like the humans were making noise just to offend his sensibilities. Which may be true of Dorian, come to think of it.

“You're going to fix this, right Tiny?” Varric peeks his head in from the main hall, looking almost nervous as he runs a hand over his hair. 

“Would've thought you'd like the drama.” Bull really doesn't have time to be stopping to chat, but it's not like he really knows what to do anyway. His Tama had never taken any sass, and the other Tamassran's never really allowed fighting. It still happened, but it wasn't like what's happening upstairs. The distraction's good, gives Bull a minute to gather his wits.

Or at least it would if some way to fix all this came to him. So far, no luck on that front.

“Eh.” Varric shrugs a little. “It makes for good story fodder, but Sparkler's not so bad.”

“If you are both finished?” Solas doesn't even look up at them, just keeps messing with his paints. But he's right, there's nothing to be accomplished talking here. 

Bull begins up the stairs, but even from the third footfall, the hurt in Dorian's voice is obvious when he asks

“Why are you even here? Wasn't tricking me into coming to Redcliffe enough?” 

“Dorian...” The voice that speaks is older, cultured, and at pains to appear understanding but just missing the mark, “You are being unreasonable. I only wanted to talk.”

“You had that chance back in Redcliffe.” Bull hears Dorian grit out, and he winces, pausing midstep. This might not be his place to step in. Whatever hurt this was, it might not be his to heal. Even though the pain he hears in Dorian's voice makes his heart ache, and all he wants to do was go up there and pull him away.

Family crap. Human's make everything so damn complicated, Vints especially so.

“All you did was try to paint me as the wrong one. Now you're trying again, in front of all these people? So much for _A Pavus only puts on a show when it matters_.” Dorian spits out.

Cautiously, Bull takes a few more steps up, until he can see the second floor. He remains just out of sight, watching the situation. His hopes of Dorian spotting him are dashed as he realizes the man has his back to him.

Then he notices why; Dorian's refused to let them back him into his alcove. Good on him. Bull approves.

Of course now he's out in the open, feeling unsafe, what with the way his hackles are raised and how tightly his arms are crossed around his chest. Dorian's father, that's got to be him, is easy to spot. He's a little shorter then his son, more aged, has less impressive facial hair, but the resemblance is clear. 

“Dorian, my dear, you're being quite childish. We were invited here.” Bull looks over at the woman who'd spoken. She's very beautiful; her long dark hair streaked with grey swept up in a complicated braid. Her clothes are made of the finest silks, with bright, eye catching colors.

He has to bite his lip to keep from snorting at the way she kept one shoulder uncovered. So that's where Dorian gets it from.

“Mother...” Just like that, Dorian droops. His shoulders slump, and he hangs his head. Bull takes a few more steps up, into the rotunda. He ignores the gasps from the Pavus' and catalogues the looks of relief the other mages in the library shoot him. Never hurts to have some good will stored up for later.

“Hey, Dorian. Take it these are your parents?”

“Bull...” Dorian turns to him then, blinks in shock, but only sighs. He nods a little, raises up his arm to gesture at his parents. “Yes. This is the illustrious house Pavus; my father Halward and my mother Aquinea. Mother, Father, this is the Iron Bull. The article is important.”

If Bull thought they were loud before, it's nothing compared to the row that starts now. There's cries of “You keep company with Qunari, Dorian?!” and “Really, you're on first name basis with an Ox?” 

They haven't guessed the true nature of his and Dorian's relationship, and... and the thing is, Bull's just watching Dorian. He doesn't feel like informing the Pavuses about it. Not when Dorian looks so defeated.

He'd known Dorian was drawn to him for more then his muscle, although Bull's quite proud of it. He is very impressive, thanks. He's seen the way Dorian's eyes linger on Adaar, on the male Tal-Vashoth and Vashoth in the keep. To be fair, his eyes also linger on some of the dwarves, some of Cullen's men, too, and a few of the city elves that have come to help out. But like Bull had said, Dorian went for the forbidden. 

One only had to look at his clothing to see that. Only had to watch him, to listen to him. So why is it that Dorian's not rubbing it in his parents faces that he's bedded a Qunari? Multiple times to.

Vashedan, Adaar had come to get the Bull for a reason. Whatever they are is a little more then good sex, damn good sex, or it least it looks like it from the outside. So why isn't Dorian crowing about it?

Instead he's just hanging his head, not fighting back as his parents keep on shouting. But he doesn't look ashamed, just tired. Bull takes another step closer, towering over the humans. Only Dorian doesn't seem to mind his bulk. The other two both pale a little.

“Hey. You want out of here?” He whispers, gruffly, into Dorian's ear. 

“No, I enjoy having every speck of my self worth belittled.” Dorian laughs, and fuck Bull never wants to hear that sound again. Dorian looks up at him, his eyes watery as he nods. “Please.”

Dorian's voice is so broken when he speaks that it only takes Bull a second to act. He wraps his arms around Dorian's waist, hoists him over his shoulder and turns towards the stairs. Dorian doesn't even put up a token protest.

Shouts follow them down into the main hall, but Bull doesn't care. All he wants is for Dorian to say something, anything that doesn't come out as that broken, awful whisper. Even if it's just to yell at him for doing this in front of his parents. 

But there's nothing. There's no kicking and calling Bull a savage or an ox, no slapping him on the shoulder or demanding he be put down. Just...nothing.

Josephine hurries by, heading in the direction of the library. Sparing her a nod, Bull doesn't stop on his path back to the Herald's Rest. Doesn't do more then wave at his boys, just takes the steps tqo at a time though his knee will hate him for that later. 

It takes far too long to reach his room. For once he sets Dorian down gently in the middle of the large bed, then goes to lock the doors. There's still the hole in the ceiling, but maybe that's a good thing. It gives Dorian an out if he needs one, while the locked doors assure him no one can get in unless he lets them.

Not that Bull thinks Dorian even notices. Not now.

He sits down next to the mage on the bed, one hand running up and down Dorian's back. He's not even crying, not looking up at the Bull. Taking a deep breath of air, Bull keeps up his stroking.

Dorian will talk to him eventually. Or he won't. All he can do now is wait.

~

The sun lowers in the sky and it gets colder, so Bull wraps his blanket around Dorian, strokes his hair back out his eyes. It's been an hour, maybe two, but still nothing from Dorian. At least he looks calmer, even though there's still a sense of defeat about the man's shoulders.

Bull strokes his back one last time before getting up. He doesn't say anything, just heads to the door, shutting it firmly. As he looks to his right he catches sight of Cole, and to his left, Sera. She doesn't appear happy to be on the same floor as the spirit, her bow's out as she swings her feet over the side of the railing.

He exchanges greetings with them both though he's not sure what he says, maybe just hello or maybe instructions to watch the door, like they weren't doing that anyway. It's a short trip down the stairs to the tavern, where he orders some bread and cheese; Cabot doesn't have any of that fancy stuff Dorian likes, which is a shame. Anything to see a smile on that sad, pretty face.

His boys don't try to stop him, though they do glance his way, raise their mugs at him in greeting. Krem looks like he wants to say something, but stops, shakes his head, obviously thinking better of it. Good man.

The stairs are a little hard on the way back up; his knee not thanking him for all the sets he's climbed today, but Bull makes it up okay. The stubborn joint can wait until he's sure Dorian's in a better place.

When Bull opens the door he sighs a little in relief. Dorian's still got the blanket wrapped around him, but he's moved to look out the hole in the wall, and he turns towards Bull as the door is shut. The smile he gives Bull is one he hopes to never see again.

It's a sad smile, one he's never seen before. It almost looks like Dorian's accepted something awful and unchangeable. Whatever's rolling around in Dorian's head can't be good, but Bull isn't going to make him talk.

“Food.” Bull lifts up the bread, tearing off a piece as he talks. “Even got some of that cheese you like, too.”

“...Bull, you're the one who likes that cheese.” Dorian crinkles his nose, but takes the offered bread and chews it slowly.

“More for me.” Bull grins and shrugs a little, taking the biggest bite he can just to see that look again. He's not disappointed, Dorian sighs at him a moment later, then shakes his head fondly as he moves to sit back down on the bed. 

Bull follows, offering another piece of bread that Dorian refuses. They sit in silence awhile, Dorian staring at the floor while Bull finishes up both of their meals. The sun gets even lower.

It's not the best kind of silence, nor is it the worst. Bit pensive is all. 

The stars start to shine in the sky before Dorian speaks again.

“I suppose you want to know what that was all about?”

“Nah. Boss told me some of it – nothing too personal, all shit I already figured out.” Bull raises a brow, scratches at the base of a horn. “I was going to let you handle it... 'til you shut down. They probably haven't left yet, if you want to go see them.”

“I think... I've rather proved being in the same room with my family only ends in tears. For all of us.” Dorian grimaces, shaking his head. “I'm sorry you had to deal with me.”

“You say that like I don't love 'dealing with you'.”

Dorian chuckles at that. Then they lapse back into silence, Dorian leaning into him. Bull's just starting to wonder if he should get up, light a candle when Dorian speaks.

“Sometimes I think it would be easier if they were bad parents...” Dorian sighs, his shoulders drooping, there's a little shake of his head as he trembles before he goes on. “But the thing is... they weren't. They could be distant at times, yes. Pushed hard, true. But I thrived under that. I thrived with someone pushing me to be better...”

Well, what can the Bull say to that? There isn't anything, even though he sort of feels like there should be. Shit he's bad at this.

“I remember learning to read, sitting on his knee. Magical theory of course, but there were fanciful stories in there as well. The acrid smell of smoke in the air as he sucked on his pipe... _We won't tell Mother now, will we?_ ” Dorian laughs, and it's not a pretty one. 

Bull reaches out, strokes up and down his back to comfort. It's all he can do. “You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Kadan.”

Shit. He hadn't meant to call Dorian that.

“I think... I need to.”

“Then I'll listen. As long as you want me to.”

“I don't know what I did to deserve you, but as I'm rather too selfish to refuse... Where was I? Oh. Right.” There's another sigh, so Bull wraps his arms tighter around him. Kisses just behind his ear like he likes, pretends he doesn't hear the choked off breath before Dorian continues.

“Sometimes... Sometimes they got along. I think maybe it was for my benefit, or maybe there was some mutual respect long ago; not enough to survive a marriage neither cared for, but... enough to sometimes pretend it wasn't all bad... it wasn't much, but I could pretend. Then I met Felix.” Dorian laughs again, shaking his head.

“For all his faults, Alexius... he and his wife had something. They were a family. What they're supposed to be like, I gather. It sort of... when I was staying with them, I only saw hints now and again. But it was enough... Oh, I don't know.” 

Bull tightens his grip around Dorian, wordlessly encourages him to go on. Even if he could think of something to say, it wouldn't help. Not now. Still, images of his Tama flit through his mind. Of the other children under her care. 

The qunari don't have families, not like humans do. But they have kin. They have kadan. The Bull? He had his kith for awhile, though most died. He had friends on Seheron, has friends still living back in Par Vollen.

It might be fake, but he's got the Chargers, he's got Krem. It's real enough to them, and that makes it real enough to the Bull. At least, as real as this mask he's adopted can be. When this whole Inquisition business is over, he'll have to go back.

He'll have to. While there's something of Hissrad still in him, before he's all gone. Hissrad will never turn Tal-Vashoth. The Bull shakes away thoughts of burning orphanages and mad men with blood stained teeth, breathes deep, and goes back to listening to Dorian.

This isn't the time or the place. He doesn't have to go back yet. He can be the Iron Bull a little longer. Hissrad can keep watch, learn, file things away for the Qun, but the Bull cares. He's not going to examine why, he's not. Not right now.

Dorian needs someone, it might as well be him.

Luckily, he doesn't seem to have noticed Bull's wandering thoughts. It's sort of cute, and the Bull leans down to kiss at his hair. Dorian just keeps talking, voice a little rough from holding back tears. 

“It wasn't that she didn't care, she did in her own way. I see that now. I wonder if she even wanted me, or if I was just some necessary duty to her house, another way for her to stay in power.” Dorian chuckles, shakes his head, leans back into Bull's embrace for several long minutes. 

“She used to fix my collar when I was young. I rather think I was always destined for fashion, whether she was in the picture or not, but Mother... she helped that along. Showed me the ways in which a nice outfit could protect just as much as a suit of armor.”

“They aren't bad people, Bull. I need you to believe that. They're not... it's just... I'm the exception, I suppose.”

“Alright. I believe you. The magister who hurt you so badly you fled your homeland is a good person. Your mother's so great, the minute she started speaking you turned belly up and let them tear into you. Yeah Dorian. I'm sure they're great.” Bull sits up some, running his hands up and down Dorian's sides for a moment before he continues. 

“Look. I get it, families hurt each other – but Kadan, Dorian, that doesn't excuse it. I don't know why you left home, I can guess, and you don't have to tell me, not until you're ready. If you never are? That's fine to. But...”

And then Bull thinks of Krem puff, who still sends his mother money from time to time. His second in command has no way of knowing if she's putting it towards buying his fathers freedom like he hopes, or if she doesn't even care. But Krem still does it. He thinks of Dalish, how her eyes light up whenever the Chargers run into an elven clan. There's no real chance it's hers, she wouldn't be welcome even if it was. He thinks of how Skinner will never talk to the other elves when they're in cities, but she won't let human nobles get away with hurting them, either. 

He thinks of the regret he sometimes felt, when he killed the Tal-Vashoth who hadn't gone crazy yet. Bull wouldn't take it back, they needed to die, it was only a matter of time, but...

He finally settles on something to say.

“I'm here for you, aright?” Bull doesn't promise to be his family for him, doesn't say it's all going to be okay. Wounds still hurt even after they're healed. 

They stay like that until Dorian falls asleep. Bull follows him shortly after, tucking them both under the covers, Dorian laid out on top of him. It's nice, for now. Some day he's going to have to go back the Qun, be Hissrad again. But not now.

He's got time. He can savor this, savor being the Iron Bull. If that makes him a bad qunari? Well, the Iron Bull is posing as a Tal-Vashoth. It adds to the realism.

The next day the two of them stay in bed for awhile, lazily kissing but never getting very far. It's... good. Then Bull goes with him to the library to make sure Dorian will be safe, even though he's assured multiple times the man will be fine. 

Still, Dorian doesn't really put up a fuss. That kind of makes Bull smile, but he only does it when Dorian's turned away.

He needn't have worried. The boss is waiting at Dorian's alcolve, a sheepish look on his face and three bottles of wine. 

Once Bull's sure Dorian's parents aren't a problem anymore, he leaves Adaar to his groveling and heads back out to the courtyard. He chuckles as he hears Dorian squeeze a promise to visit Val Royeaux. Ah, Ma'am will like that. 

He spares a moment to wonder who the fourth person will be on the trip; hopes a little that it's him. It's always fun to watch Orlesians try and look like they aren't staring at him, doubly so now that he's traveling with a Vashoth more often then not. 

Mostly though, Bull just wants to see Dorian smile. For all his claims of the fashion being nowhere near Tevinter's level, it's clear Dorian's in his element surrounded by finery. He starts to chuckle as he heads up the stairs, thinking of how many new outfits Dorian will have by the end of the trip.

Huh. Maybe they really are good for each other, and it wasn't just a foolish hope of his. By the time the Qun calls for him again, Dorian might not even need him anymore.

There's a letter on his desk when Bull gets back to his room, a feather atop it to show Red already went through it, but he lets it be for now. 

All they ever send is suggestions on where to nudge the Boss towards, Nobles they've got their eyes on, things like that. Stuff that's not damning towards them, things that the Inquisition might've figured out on it's own. 

Stuff like that. Never anything too bad. Bull knows he'll have to go back eventually, but it's a ways off. No use worrying about the future. The letter can wait.

Nothing it contains can be too important anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> P:
> 
> Happy Holidays!


End file.
